I was telling my trainer my two Hoboken haiku, and pointing out that they're not technically good haiku, because they don't mention a season or time of day...he wryly commented "No, 'power failure' is a time of day in Hoboken!"

More langorous than haiku, trailing lines
Of Shakespeare's cadence might give birth, I fear
To long, sweet speeches with the burnished gleam
Of richly caparison'd metaphors -- but see:
I've lost control already. I concede.
Though Mamet says blank verse is but the natural
Rhythm of spoken English, we're not all poets.

I like writing blank verse. I once wrote a whole parody-description of a going-away party for a coworker as a pseudo-Shakespearean dialogue...I'd post it here but a) it's too long, b) it's full of in-jokes, and c) it has footnotes (the annoying kind that are in HS Shakespeare texts).

Five beats, one line
set speech's nature only
in young habits talking
horse-striding, city-walking
talk, that goes the way
long known, foot-measured, bounded.

Five beats are emphasis
desperation, haste of hitting
point or strong conclusion
in the oar-rhythm, ox-following
woods-wandering stresses of older
tongues and tales and thinking.

(which is almost as to say that I cannot
speak as Shakespeare spoke, and make it real
or ring or hold the thoughts of anyone's attention
where the words wander and want to lift
into the memory of older trees than these,
that plot how to twist the concrete all apart
and drink what went to water lawns, when
by roots widespread such pump-thieving serves.

All the world's with and five hundred's count
of years amased of speaking holds it not
or so I find it not to hold one English.)
~